


Let It Be Known

by pinstripedJackalope



Series: WINGO [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Best Friends, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malec Discord Server WINGO, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Shadowhunter Magnus Bane, Sick Alec Lightwood, Sickfic, Triggers, Vomiting, Warlock Alec Lightwood, Wingfic, Wings, he does get sick, reverse au, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope
Summary: Magnus just wants to have a nice night in with his best friend, is that so much to ask?Aka: a continuation ofI Need Youinvolving some of the aftermath of the poisoning.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood
Series: WINGO [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789747
Comments: 18
Kudos: 79
Collections: Wingo Summer





	Let It Be Known

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Need You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750046) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope). 



> Another entry for my WINGO card! This one is for 'mood wings'. 
> 
> Again, in this universe Magnus is 18 and a little emotionally stunted. He's working on it, though.

Magnus had never known the city to be beautiful. It stunk, it was overcrowded, everyone was on top of everyone else all the time with no reprieve… ugh. The scent of garbage and exhaust was apathetic, indifferent to the suffering of its inhabitants.

And yet. Magnus took a deep breath, stepping out of the restaurant, bag in hand. There was something about this indifference that had almost become… welcoming, in a way. The hard way, as nothing could be easy in the city, but it was there all the same. A familiarity, waiting for anyone willing to brave the stench of it. It was becoming home, despite the resistance Magnus had originally put up to it. He never thought he’d feel at peace in this country, but there it was. Though admittedly, the smell of Indian food wafting in front of his nose might have had something to do with it.

Balancing the bag of take-out on one forearm, the freshly made curry hot against his chest, Magnus pulled his phone from his pocket. _On my way up,_ he typed with one hand, slipping through the front door into the lobby of Alec’s apartment building. He didn’t get a response, but he could feel the lifting of Alec’s wards to let him in—it was like a flutter of air, a tingle against his skin as they assessed him and then eased back.

They didn’t do that for just anybody. Magnus smirked, silently proud, as he headed up the stairs and the blanket of the night air outside slipped away. It had taken a long time to be able to come and go more or less freely from Alec’s apartment. Alec, and by extension his wards, didn’t trust easily. But alas, no one could resist the charms of Magnus Bane, not even a grump like Alec.

Hand on the take-out bag, Magnus shouldered his way through Alec’s front door, toeing off his glittery boots and calling out, “I’m home, darling! Where do you want the food?”

“Just put it in the kitchen,” came the return call from the direction of the study, accompanied, Magnus was sure, by a patented Alec eye roll. Magnus hummed, wondering if he’d get his eyebrows singed off if he went to go stick his nose in to see what Alec was up to. The ‘study’, as Alec called it, was really more of a catastrophe-waiting-to-happen—part apothecary, part science experiment, part magical-catch-all… it was a mystical powder keg ready to blow at any moment, only kept under wraps because of Alec’s meticulous nature and his attention to detail. It was for this reason that no one but Alec was allowed inside—just a disturbance of the energies in the room had been known to cause minor seismic activity.

It was cute. The fact that the study matched Alec’s personality perfectly, that was. A mix of volatile emotions, all carefully balanced until someone he didn’t like got too close, and then BAM—explosion. Though an Alec explosion usually featured a lot of yelling while the study actually, you know, _exploded_.

Magnus set the food down on Alec’s kitchen counter, listening intently as Alec murmured under his breath. _God_ , did he want to go see what Alec was up to. It was always so fun watching Alec work—his movements were never what you’d call ‘gestural’ but there was a certain grace to him all the same, something that almost seemed more heavenly than the shadowhunter grace Magnus himself had. It was odd, how easily Magnus could picture Alec as a shadowhunter—just glamour his wings and slap a few runes on him and he’d fit right in.

Not that he’d ever tell that to Alec. Alec had a certain pride in his downworld heritage, a certain duty to his warlock brethren that Magnus didn’t really understand. Shadowhunters weren’t like that—Magnus would kill for his friends, of course, but pick a random Clave official off the street and he’d have a hard time getting it up, so to speak. The Clave was all about blind obedience, and that was one thing that Magnus didn’t have to spare. It was their loss, really.

The murmuring in the other room came to a stop, and Magnus leaned on the counter, crossing one ankle over the other. He’d been looking forward to this all day. Their patrol today had been particularly boring—no Circle members, no murders, not even a measly little ravener demon to fight. Then, to make matters worse, Catarina had insisted afterward that they spend the afternoon going over first aid, only adding an extra layer of blah. 

Magnus wasn’t going to tell that to Alec, either, though—he could already hear the retort. _Catarina was right, you needed the refresher_ , he’d say. Ugh, friends. Always teaming up on him. Magnus rolled his eyes.

Whatever. It was over now, and soon enough Alec would be here and they could spend some quality best friend time together. 

Magnus hummed, picking open the knot in the take-out bag and starting to pull styrofoam containers out. Things had been better between them since the day Alec was poisoned. They had been better at communicating, at meeting each other halfway. Magnus would never admit this out loud, but… it was nice having his best friend back. Just… really nice. He got to forget about the stupid Clave and their dumb missions for a while as he soaked up his time with the warlock. And though Alec never said anything, Magnus was pretty sure that he liked it, too.

At least… he was pretty sure until Alec stepped into the kitchen, took one look at him, and his entire face twisted in revulsion. Rude. Before Magnus could demand just what the _hell_ that look was about and/or take his food and march right back out of the building, however, Alec was clapping a hand over his mouth, looking stricken. He was already pivoting away as Magnus raised a hand to reach for him, his wing slamming into the door frame as he made a run for the hallway bathroom. The door slammed behind him with a finality that made Magnus jump.

What… the hell.

Magnus huffed, half annoyed and half confused. He was more annoyed about his confusion than anything, really—he knew Alec better than just about anybody except for maybe Alec’s siblings, so he didn’t like it when Alec did something that took him by surprise. Especially the bad kind of surprise. Like ‘looking revolted at the sight of him’ surprise. It wasn’t like he’d walked in covered head to toe in ichor, so honestly what the hell?

He stomped up to the bathroom door—a hard feat to do in socks, he should get some kind of award for that—and was about to demand answers when he heard it: retching.

Oh. Oh, no.

Without thinking things through any further than that, Magnus threw the door wide open, crashing through in a mess of limbs with his phone already in his hand. “Tell me everything you’ve eaten today, I’ll call Catarina and she’ll bring a team over and—”

Alec grunted, swallowing down more retches and taking a deep breath. “Calm down,” he said, turning to glare over his shoulder. He was incredibly pale, and Magnus pressed a worried hand to his face. He didn’t feel warm. At least, not this time. But did he feel warm last time? 

Magnus couldn’t remember. He just—he _couldn_ _’t remember_.

Catarina. Catarina would know. Ignoring Alec’s hand, which was trying to pry his fingers off his face, he dialed up Catarina and held the phone up to his ear. She’d know, she had to know, she’d be able to come and fix this and Alec would _be okay_ —

He flinched as Alec plucked the phone from his ear, ending the call with a flick of his finger.

“I’m not poisoned,” Alec said, low but firm.

Magnus gaped, trying to understand. “You’re… not? But—you—”

Alec shook his head. With a snap of his fingers he’d flushed the toilet and produced a toothbrush with toothpaste, which he promptly stuck in his mouth, grimacing. His wings were pulled in close to his back, feathers curving around his legs as he brushed the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

Magnus, baffled, stared at him. He felt like he’d just stumbled off of a rollercoaster, his emotions having gone up and down and all around, all in quick succession. “You… you’re okay?” he asked. “Then what was…?”

Alec grimaced again, focusing on brushing as Magnus went over the scene in his head. Alec walking in, Alec looking at him, Alec’s face… spinning and sprinting for the toilet… it could only have been one thing, if not Magnus himself.

“Was it the food?” Magnus asked, the bafflement growing as Alec shrugged uncomfortably. They shared Indian all the time. Why would it have made him throw up? Unless Alec was sick or… like… feeling extra sensitive about food? For some reason?

Hm. They were going to address that in a minute. First things first; Magnus could recognize when he was being a dick. Or, to be more accurate, he could recognize that he was being a dick right _now_. Alec was clearly discomfited—now that Magnus wasn’t panicking it was time to give him some space.

“Sorry for barging in,” he said, backing out the door once again. He then shuffled and slid on his socks back into the kitchen, where he took the untouched boxes of food off the counter and stuffed them into the already-full fridge. Alec could wave them off into a dumpster later—for now he just needed to get them out of sight and hopefully out of smelling-range.

He sighed. So much for a nice evening in.

When he got back to the bathroom a few minutes later, he found Alec right where he’d left him, though now with a clean mouth. He hadn’t noticed Magnus in the doorway yet, just standing there with his eyes closed, breathing in and out. His wings were pulled in tight, still, and Magnus frowned. He’d assumed that Alec had kept his wings close to his back before in consideration for having another person in the bathroom with him—small space, not a lot of room to maneuver, that kind of thing—but the way he was standing there now spoke more of unease and upset than anything else. 

Magnus’s lips screwed up in a pout. If Alec’s glamour had been up, he probably wouldn’t have been able to tell how upset he was. Thankfully, Alec almost never used a glamour in his own home, and Magnus could see the slight tremor in the flight feathers as Alec pulled them in even tighter. Protective, almost. Like they were trying to shield him. From what, though, Magnus had no idea.

“…Maybe you’d feel better if you laid down?” Magnus suggested. Alec’s eyes opened, flicking over and meeting Magnus’s. Normally Magnus loved having Alec’s eyes on him—their bright, vibrant blue was intense in all the best ways—but right now it felt like they were searching for something, and Magnus felt like he was coming up woefully short. After a moment Alec looked away, nodding and stepping carefully around Magnus to walk to his bedroom in silence.

Magnus bit his lip, following along despite the fact that Alec hadn’t specifically invited him. Alec’s bedroom… it was another room that was just quintessentially _him_. Less so because of the contents and more because it felt _lived in_ , on a level that the rest of the apartment just couldn’t reach. The smell of Alec and his magic was _everywhere_ in here, seeping from the sheets and the curtains and the furniture itself.

Magnus couldn’t help it—the moment he was over the threshold he took a deep breath in, trying not to make it obvious. He’d only ever been back here a handful of times—when he’d gone through Alec’s closet to dress Alec for the dance, when he had slept over the night he was drunk and had stumbled into Alec’s bed in the middle of the night, when he and Alec had fought and he’d followed Alec back here, trying to force him to see his side despite the fact that Alec was right, because of course he was. This room was almost untouched by Magnus—unlike the living room, which was slowly collecting clothes and boots and spare bottles of lip gloss—and Magnus loved it even more for the fact that it felt like he was surrounded by Alec, wholly and entirely, every time he came in.

…Not that he’d tell Alec that, either, if he was being quite honest.

Shaking his head, Magnus slipped all the way into the room, waiting by the side of the bed as Alec crawled in. He settled on his side facing Magnus with his wings again pulled close, and as soon as he was down Magnus followed him in, setting his head on the pillow as he watched Alec curl up. His color was better now, thankfully, but he still looked uncomfortable. Like he was dreading the conversation they were about to have, though Magnus couldn’t fathom why.

Pursing his lips, Magnus frowned. “So… you wanna tell me what’s up?” he asked.

“It just… took me by surprise when I walked into the kitchen, is all,” Alec said, sighing. His eyes flicked to meet Magnus’s and then flicked away again so fast that Magnus almost felt like he imagined it.

“What, the smell?” Magnus asked. Alec nodded. “It’s never bothered you before, though? Or… or has it?”

“No, it never—it’s just—” Alec bit his his lip, his blue eyes slipping closed. The wing that Magnus could see behind him shuffled in agitation, flexing and settling again. Alec took a deep breath. “At the… Circle hideout. When I was poisoned. They served curry like that.”

Magnus’s mouth fell open in an O. For all the progress they’d made in talking and communicating and all of that, Alec had been very tight-lipped about that night. He’d talked about what happened, but only a little—just enough to paint a loose picture of it all. Magnus didn’t even know how he got out of the building without his magic. How he went from ‘trapped inside, slowly dying’ to ‘at the Institute’s door’. 

Eyes still closed, Alec continued, oblivious to Magnus’s surprise. It was like he couldn’t stop now that he’d started, bleeding freely now that he’d ripped off the scab. “It was so fancy, with three courses. I guess it must have been the first one that had the poison—probably to make sure it got into our systems. They expected us to die in there. I think that was the only reason they allowed me to go snooping around and find the prisoners—they didn’t expect me to survive to tell anyone. I just… when I started to feel sick and I started throwing up, all I could taste was the curry, and when I smelled it in the kitchen just now… my body…”

He shuddered slightly, his face twisting in the same expression that Magnus saw in the kitchen earlier.

“…Your body reacted,” Magnus finished for him, when it becomes clear that he couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out. Alec nodded, lips pressed together.

Magnus watched him for a long moment, taking in the way his chest expanded and contracted, the tiny movements of his closed eyes, the press of his lip between his teeth. Then he opened his mouth and, hoping he wasn’t pushing Alec too far, asked, “How did you get out?”

Alec breathed out through his nose, long and slow. “Through an industrial vent. I found it in one of the hallways in the basement—either the warlock they got to ward the building didn’t notice it or didn’t think anyone would be able to get through.”

“Maybe they hoped someone would get out,” Magnus said, to do something, anything, to lighten the mood a little.

With a hum, Alec tucked his chin, curling up a little tighter. “…Maybe,” he said. “But I hope not. If they did, and the Circle found out that I got out that way… that means they’re probably dead now.”

Magnus clenched his jaw, watching the pain play on Alec’s face. The warlock felt everything so, so deeply, even when he pretended not to. Even when he tried to force it down, to keep it from himself. It was evident even as he took a deep breath, forcing out more words.

“That vent… I thought my wings would get stuck and I’d be trapped in there for the Circle to find. Or that I’d throw up and choke on my own vomit, or—there was one place where the turn was so tight that I nearly snapped the bones in my wings trying to get around the bend and I—I just—”

His hands were trembling on the sheets, curled into fists. Magnus took a breath and then reached forward, setting his palm on one of them. Alec flinched, making a noise like a pained whine at the feeling of Magnus’s gentle fingers. Magnus, for his part, just worked at prying his hand open and threading their fingers together, holding Alec’s hand tight. 

He just… he forgot, sometimes, how young Alec was for an immortal. He was barely eighty, and the first half of his life with his mother had been very sheltered. Even after he left his mother to go out on his own, he was sheltered by the fact that he was so powerful that no one could really touch him. He’d dealt with pain and grief and death before, but never on a really personal level. Grieving for his mother was an act that he distanced himself from, their relationship always rocky to begin with. He didn’t know how to process the fact that he’d come so close to dying, all alone and in enemy territory, and the mess of emotions he was trying to cram down was beginning to seep out the cracks. 

Magnus bit his lip, watching Alec’s face contort as if he was trying to hold back tears. He could practically see the thoughts that were swirling around in the warlock’s head: how he should have never gone to the Circle meeting, should have known it was a trap and that no one was coming to help, how it wasn’t supposed to happen like that… but it did. It _did_ happen. And now he was stuck in the aftermath, wondering what would stop it from happening again, and again, and again after that. Trying to understand. Trying to figure it out, to crack the code because he needed to plan for when it went wrong again. Because it would go wrong, he knew that, and he needed to be _prepared_ next time. 

“I thought I was going to die,” Alec said, and then he broke down.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t meticulous. It wasn’t thoughtful or balanced or any other adjective that came to mind when Magnus thought of Alec. It was raw, and vulnerable, and it dragged up memories of Magnus leaning over his mother’s still body as he sobbed her name, memories that left him tearing up in turn. If there was one thing he had never wanted, not even in his most selfish moments, it was for Alec to feel like this. Lost and broken and exposed—like an old toy, used and thrown away.

Alec wasn’t supposed to feel like that. Ever. Period. He wasn’t supposed to be curled up in bed sobbing, the hand that Magnus wasn’t holding pressed against his face as if to hide it away, his shoulders and wings quivering as he tried to keep it all in. This wasn’t Alec. This wasn’t _right_. 

Magnus clutched at Alec’s hand, not sure what, exactly, to do. He had to do something, that much was clear—he had never been good at comforting people, but he couldn’t _stand_ seeing Alec like this. What to do, what to do—

Okay. Okay. He just had to start, right? Just start, and he could figure it out as he went. He just had to do _something_. So, sucking up his courage, Magnus tightened his grip on the hand he was holding. Then, shadowhunter strength on full display, he used that hand to drag Alec in, pulling until he could throw his arm around Alec’s shaking shoulders, just above the joints of his wings. 

“You’re okay, Alexander, I’m here,” he said, the words spilling out of his mouth as Alec buried his face in his shoulder. “You’re okay, you’re okay, and I’m _here_ , okay, I’m not gonna leave you alone like that again…”

He continued, unsure if Alec was even listening to him as Alec sobbed against his shirt. All the way up until Alec took a deep, shaky breath and said, “You can’t promise that. You can’t promise you’ll always be there. You _can_ _’t_.”

By the Angel, the quivering frown Alec was pressing to Magnus’s chest could probably melt steel beams. “Watch me,” Magnus growled, throwing the last of his caution to the wind. Alec was _hurting_ , and Magnus was going to help Alec feel better or Raziel help them _both_.

If only Alec wasn’t so damn _stubborn_. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he argued, hiccuping as he did. The gut-wrenching sobs had slowed nearly to a stop, but he kept his face right where it was, refusing to move away from the wet spot he’d left on Magnus’s shirt.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let it be known that I will always do my level best in whatever circumstances we find ourselves to make sure that you feel as safe and protected as you make everyone else feel. Will you accept that?”

Alec was quiet for a long moment, sniffling every few seconds. Just when Magnus was about to force him to look up he sighed and said, “…I guess.”

Wilting into the sheets in relief, Magnus let out a laugh. “Thank you,” he said, rubbing soothing circles into Alec’s back. He watched as Alec’s wings twitched with one last shudder and then went still, falling limp against the bedspread. 

For a long while, everything was still. The two of them stayed, tangled together, just like that. Magnus could have fallen asleep if it weren’t for the sudden growl of Alec’s stomach in the silence.

Alec groaned as Magnus muffled a snicker into his hair. “Hungry?” Magnus asked.

“Shut up,” Alec mumbled, curling up closer. “Not my fault. I threw up everything in me.”

“Well. If only I could snap my fingers and summon up some sandwiches. Alas, it seems that you have no choice but to suffer—”

“Alright, alright, I get your point,” Alec groaned, slowly pushing himself away. His face was blotchy and red, and he took a moment to wipe at it before he asked, “What do you want?”

“Saggio’s?” Magnus asked hopefully, referring to his favorite pizza and sandwich place. He could imagine the sandwiches now—the mass of toppings and the freshly toasted bread and—

“Only if you call it in for us,” Alec said, giving him a _look_.

Magnus huffed. Alec was so _touchy_ about summoning food from restaurants. “Fine. God. What do you have in the fridge?”

Alec listed off some things, and Magnus hummed along, picking what he wanted for Alec to summon. It wasn’t exactly luxurious—Magnus’s shirt was still gross and wet, and Alec still looked like he needed to take a nice, long beach-side vacation, and the sandwiches weren’t really what you’d call _gourmet_ —but, like the city, it was becoming familiar. Alec, despite all the resistance that Magnus had originally put up to him and despite the long months it had taken to get here, was becoming home. His tears, his vomit, his quirks and eccentricities and flaws… all of them were things that Magnus was learning to cherish. 

Even if that meant no more curry. Even if it meant sacrificing a nice night in to comfort a friend. Alec… he was worth this. 

Let it be known that he was worth _everything_.


End file.
